Coup D'IaHB: Truths in the Darkness
by Karrah Aretz
Summary: truth is all relative...
1. The Brews

The Brews  
By Maureen  
  
Disclaimers: yadda yadda ya, I don't own Jamie or Catie Disney does, I'm not making any money, I don't own the Brews, NOFX does. Again, no money!!! (although I will accept food!)  
  
This is a prequel of sorts to 'I've Got the Straightedge' but is much happier! No one dies even!  
  
A/n:BE-A-TLE: I wont be barbed in the a/n this time will I? kidding. :-D  
Maureen: um...no...unless you want to be?  
Be-A-TLE: nooooooo. I was quiet shocked last time  
  
Heheheh, I mentioned you anyways! Love you babe J  
  
***  
  
"So, James, you in?" Catie asked, her voice low. They were in 7th period algebra and trying not to have their weekend plans over heard by the teacher.   
  
"Yeah, sure, I guess so." Jamie responded nervously.   
  
The bell rang before he could add anything and Catie called over to him, "Be at my house at 7:00 sharp, James!" as she ran out the door.  
  
***  
  
At 7:00 Jamie pulled his bike up into the Roth's driveway and walked up to the door. Before he could ring the bell of the modest split level, Catie came running out the door, a backpack in her hand. "Ready to go?" she asked, excited.  
  
"Yeah. Um, I don't need to bring anything right?" he said, eyeing her bag. Two people and 2 backpacks would just not work on his motorcycle.  
  
"I have everything in here." Jamie helped her climb on the back before starting it up and was screeching down the street within seconds.   
  
Several minutes later they pulled into a huge parking lot sprinkled at one end with different cars. Upon closer inspection they were all recent Mercedes', BMW's, and Lexus'. "Stupid J.A.P.s," Jamie muttered in disgust.  
  
Catie over heard him and hit him upside the head. "Shut up, we're spending the night with them."  
  
"Ow! Fine! Just don't blame me if I have a crappy time!"  
  
They walked into the building and down a long hallway passing through soundproof doors. Well, they would have been soundproof had they been closed, but the loud music accompanied by the voices of the occupants of the cars outside and the chaperones made it sound like a mob scene.   
  
On closer inspection, it was a mob scene, with around 40 teens seemingly everywhere. Many were sitting outside in the hallway with an adult, having what looked to be some sort of meeting while inside the room the people were sitting on the floor, around the kitchenette, pool table and draped over the various couches. The floor was adorned with backpacks and sleeping bags and a few bodies.   
  
Abercrombie was the unofficial uniform followed closely by Tommy Hilfiger clothing all these teens that Jamie could see except for himself and Catie. Jamie, for his part was wearing his most comfortable jeans, the pair with the rip in the back pocket, and a 'Kingsport EMT' baseball style t-shirt that Brooke had made for everyone. Catie was clothed in cargo jeans and a dark blue tank top. Maximum comfort she had said.   
  
Friday night we'll be drinkin' Maneshevitz  
Goin' out to terrorize goyim  
Stompin' shagitz, screwin' shicksas  
As long as we're home by Saturday mornin'  
  
"Hey, Catie!" a girl said, running over from the corner with the piano in it.   
  
"Hey Julie," Catie replied, as she hugged the taller girl. "This is Jamie, he's kinda new in town."   
  
"Oh? Where do you go?" Julie asked.  
  
"No where right now. I only moved here a few months ago."  
  
"He's Canadian," Catie informed Julie with a wink.  
  
"Cool, come on, you can meet everyone!" Julie practically dragged the duo over behind the upright piano where about 5 other teens were sitting, all without the 'AF' logo adorning them.   
  
"That's Blake," a long haired guy with most of a beard despite him being younger than 18, "Coby," a shorter girl wearing grungy old navy clothes, "Marielle," she sat away from the group and was doing stretches "and last but not least, Amira," she was a short dark haired girl that could pass as Catie's cousin. She was writing ferociously in a notebook and barely looked up when her name was said.   
  
Cause hey we're the Brews  
Sportin' anti swastika tattoos  
Oi Oi we're the boys  
Orthodox, hesidic, O.G. Ois  
  
"Hey," they replied, waving or whatever they felt like doing.   
  
"I'm Jamie," he said, sitting down next to Catie.  
  
Before any more pleasantries could be exchanged, a male voice shouted to be heard over the din. After only a minute or two everyone had quieted down and were patiently waiting for him to speak. "Welcome to the Beth Israel '01 Lock In! For those who don't know me, I'm Rabbi Abramowitz and the rules we have are posted around on the walls. The only one I'm going to point out is rule '69' which states that no one can have sex while they're here. And if you leave, you can't come back in!"  
  
The Rabbi was young, not quite thirty yet and an infectious grin topped his still gangly body. He wore a yarmulke with his jeans and a '50th Anniversary of Israel' t-shirt and tennis shoes. He knew what he was getting into by chaperoning this lock in.  
  
There was mild laughter amongst the kids, obviously catching some joke that Jamie was missing. Coby leaned over and explained that it was supposed to be 'rule 9' but whoever was typing the rules up always 'mistyped' it as rule number '69'.  
  
"Heh, cool."   
  
The rules and intro finished, the Rabbi opened the door and several other chaperones came in bringing stacks of pizza and gallons of soda. They were, of course, immediately mobbed and within minutes the pies were devoured leaving only stacks of boxes.   
  
Orthopedic Dr. Martins good for  
Waffle making, kickin' through the shin  
Reputation, gained through intimidation  
Pacifism no longer tradition  
  
"Come on Jamie!" Blake called, from the door. Everyone had headed outside and were swarming the parking lot and the playground that Jamie had previously not noticed. The night was turning cool, but not chilly. Everybody appeared to know each other and groups were constantly forming and reforming as people greeted each other and played on the playground. Jamie sat with Catie's friends, whom attended Palmer High School, one school district over.   
  
Blake, the only one that did not go to Palmer, he went to Klein which was one of Kingsport's rivals, disappeared for a few minutes and appeared with a guitar and some drum sticks. He handed the guitar to Coby, who began to tune it and he hooked up some wires to the sticks that attached to a small black box clipped to the belt holding up his baggy jeans.   
  
He began to drum in the air as if he had an imaginary drum kit in front of him, music coming out of the box. Coby began to play, her inexperience obvious compared to Blakes.   
  
"What're you playing?" Jamie asked Blake, not recognizing the drumbeat.   
  
"The Brews, by NOFX" he replied, "You know guitar for it?"  
  
"Yeah," he replied, taking the guitar from Coby and beginning the song, his nimble fingers expertly picking out the correct chords.   
  
Cause hey we're the Brews  
Sportin' anti swastika tattoos  
Oi Oi we're the Brews  
The fairfax ghetto boys skin headed brews  
  
The Rabbi joined in then, with his guitar improvising the chords and watching Jamie's.   
  
They jammed for a good ten minutes before the Rabbi took Jamie aside and introduced himself before asking if he would play guitar for the service they were holding in about 15 minutes. "It's simple, you'll catch on quickly."  
  
Jamie nodded, numbly. He had never been even remotely religious and now he would be providing the music?  
  
Gathering the kids together, the Rabbi took the opportunity to conduct Shabbat services outside. For the first time, Jamie felt like he was actually a part of a congregation, that perhaps religion of any form was not such a bad thing and could even be entertaining. He walked around the outside of the circle of kids, playing the simple songs with infectious tunes with the Rabbi.   
  
Breaking up again in the moonlight, they headed over to the youth lounge again, to watch movies on the big screen TV. About 3 am Amira pulled out her camera and took a picture of everyone, all piled on top of each other on the floor. Jamie and Catie were looking at each other, slight grins on their faces.  
  
We got the might, psycho mashuganas  
We can't lose a fight, as we are the chosen ones  
Chutzpah, we battle then we feast  
We celebrate, we'll separate our milk plates from our meat  
  
A different Rabbi showed up at 8am the next morning bearing gallon jugs of orange juice and donuts. He then woke everyone up that had fallen asleep, and watched amused as the donuts were devoured slowly by groggy teens. "Get up, you lazy bums!" he called out, "Most of you have to work this morning! Up, up, up! Time to teach religious school!"   
  
Those that did have to work, groaned while tired chuckles emerged from those that did not. They slowly picked their things up, and began to wake up. "So, Jamie," Catie said as she brushed her hair, "What did you think?"  
  
"It was fun." He said, smiling. "Not what I expected. But what's this thing about working?"  
  
"Oh, a lot of the people here also teach Hebrew or are aides at the religious school which starts in an hour. They have to get cleaned up and wake up so they can go to work soon. I don't work here, but Coby, Blake and Amira do."  
  
"Oh. You ready?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah, Bye everyone!" she called out, as they left. "So, you think you might want to do this again?"  
  
"Yeah, maybe."  
  
"You'd have to go to religious school classes. Every Wednesday for an hour."  
  
"You're joking!"  
  
"Nope. It's not bad, it's really fun actually."  
  
"I'll think about it," Jamie replied, mounting his bike and helping Catie on. He dropped her off at her house, all the while thinking about what she had said about going. It was fun the people were nice and everyone respected the invisible barrier between prep and not prep.   
  
  
*J.A.P.s is a derogatory acronym meaning Jewish American Prince/ss  
**apologies to Black, Coby, Marielle and Amira for using them without permission in my fic (not that they'll ever see this!) hope you guys are having fun in college!!  
***The Brews is a punk rock song by NOFX and it's not meant to be derogatory in any way (since the 2 guys in the band that wrote and sang it are Jewish) 


	2. I've got the Straight Edge

I've Got the Straightedge  
By Maureen (sXe)  
  
Standard disclaimers apply  
A/N: I'm straight edge and this fic was inspired jointly by the song 'Straight Edge' which also inspired the entire straightedge movement amongst punk youths. The other thing that inspired this fic was a fic written by BE-A-TL which she is currently refusing to release so go bug her about it! Special thanks go to Jeeves and Babel fish for helping me find the Hebrew and French words :P  
  
***  
  
Catie leaned against the bleachers, basking in the spring sunshine. Under the bleachers several of the potheads had just lit up and were passing the joint around. "Hey Catie," one of the guys called out, "Want it?"  
  
"No!" Catie exclaimed, it was well known around school that she abhorred any unnatural substance in her body, including caffeine. "No fucking way!"  
  
She saw Carlson coming out of the corner of her eye and stood up, walking back into the school building. No way was she going to be caught by their weed.  
  
"Ms. Roth," Principal Carlson said, stopping her on her way to the building, "is that marijuana I smell?"   
  
"No sir," she replied, "I don't do pot. I keep telling you that and you never believe me."  
  
"You're a little gothic punk," Carlson snarled, "you don't matter! Two days of detention for insolence. Understood?"  
  
Catie was shaking with rage, but managed to reply "Crystal," in a level voice.   
  
***  
Walking back into the cafeteria, she was assaulted by several jocks taunting her with barbs, again misconceived. "Look, it's the little wastoid," one said elbowing the other.   
  
"Yeah," his friend replied, "I bet she's just coming back from shooting up."  
  
"Gods! You imbeciles make me sick!" she exclaimed, disgust lacing her words like acid, "You keep talking out your butts, not caring what the truth is or who you hurt with it!" before she could earn herself more days of detention, she stalked off.  
  
***  
  
After school, she once again made her way into the detention room, taking her customary seat next to Jamie. Surprisingly enough, he was not there with her. Then she remembered that he was on duty and had done his detention that morning before school.  
  
In an effort to make the detention time go faster, she pulled out a piece of paper and began to pen a poem. After the required hour and a half, she folded it up and slid it into Jamie's locker. He'd understand it, even if no one else at the school seemed to.   
  
***  
"Jamie?" Carlson said, the next morning, coming up to him. This was the first time he had ever called him by his preferred nickname. Usually he was referred to as 'James' or 'Mr. Waite'.   
  
"Yes, Mr. Carlson?" Jamie said, turning the combination for his locker.   
"I'm very sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, but you're friends with Catie, right?"  
  
"Yes?" Jamie said, trailing off, suddenly concerned. He usually saw Catie before school started and he hadn't seen her this morning. However, she had left a note in his locker for him. He picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket to read during homeroom.  
  
"Her mother just called the school, she's been in a car accident. I'm sorry, but she didn't make it."  
  
"What?" Jamie whispered, "No!"  
  
"If you need to speak with someone, the counselors are of course -" before he could finish Jamie had slammed the locker shut and was running down the hall, out of school.   
  
Jamie took his bike and drove off to the fair grounds where the motor cross tournaments were held, the last place he and Catie had been together. He quickly picked the lock to the judge's booth and climbed up, wanting to be alone.   
  
Remembering the note in his pocket, he opened it up and saw the simple but real poem written on it in her familiar scrawl. Catie was melodramatic, opinionated and stubborn about what she believed in, but she was refreshingly real in a society of 'political correctness' and euphemisms.   
  
***  
  
Two days later, Jamie stood with the other EMTs at the cemetery for her funeral. Val was sobbing while Tyler held her, and Jamie had been comforting Brooke since Val and Tyler were both unable. All the EMTs and Brooke wore matching lapel pins and at Jamie's insistence had drawn Xs on the back of each hand with a sharpie.   
  
The funeral went by in a blur for Jamie until her father, a man Jamie had barely met; spoke of her in his eulogy. Catie had always complained how her parents were so out of touch with her life that they had no clue what was going on with kids anymore. Listening to him ramble on, Jamie knew that she was right. Finally he finished, and said "One of Catie's best friends has asked to speak for her as well."  
  
Jamie walked to the front where the small podium had been placed. "I just want to read a poem she wrote a few hours before she died.   
  
I'm a person just like you  
But I've got better things to do  
Than sit around and fuck my head  
Hang out with the living dead  
Snort white shit up my nose  
Pass out at the shows  
I don't even think about speed  
That's something I just don't need  
I've got the straight edge  
  
I'm a person just like you  
But I've got better things to do  
Than sit around and smoke dope  
'Cause I know I can cope  
Laugh at the thought of eating ludes  
Laugh at the thought of sniffing glue  
Always gonna keep in touch  
Never want to use a crutch  
I've got the straight edge  
  
"Catie had to cope with so much because of her belief in being 'straight edge' and I know she tried to show everyone how off their preconceived notions of her were. Catie was straight edge. She tried so hard to not mess her life up with drugs or alcohol like other kids did, and in the end, alcohol killed her. I'm straight edge and I'm going to miss you, Catie."  
  
The family and friends gathered sniffed as he walked back to where Brooke and Val were. The Rabbi then asked that everyone say the Mourners Kaddish in honor of Catie. Softly, Jamie began to chant "Yitgadal veyitkadash shemei raba. Bealma divera chireutei, veyamlich malchutei. Bechayeichon uveyomeichon uvechayei dechol beit Yisraeil. Baagala uvizeman kariv, veimeru: amein. Yehei shemei raba mevarach, lealam ulealmei almaya. Yitbarach veyishtabach, veyitpaar veyitromam, Veyitnasei veyithadar, veyitaleh, veyithalal shemei dekudesha, berich hu, Leeila min kol birchata veshirata, tushbechata Venechemata, daamiran bealma veimeru: amein. Yehei shelama raba min shemaya vechayim aleinu Veal kol Yisraeil veimeru: amein. Oseh shalom bimromav, hu yaaseh shalom aleinu Veal kol Yisraeil, veimeru: amein,*" As they walked past the grave, he whispered "Repos dans la paix, cher ami.**"  
  
Dispersing slowly, the EMTs headed slowly towards the station, by unspoken agreement choosing to walk. They were not on duty for another few days, so they could mourn but the station was a common bond to them all. "I didn't know you or Catie were Jewish," Brooke said.  
  
"Yeah, I haven't practiced in years, but maybe now I should." Jamie replied softly, wrapping his long arm around Brooke's narrow shoulders.   
  
*the entire transliteration of the Mourners Kaddish from Hebrew into English.  
** French for 'rest in peace dear friend' 


	3. War Pigs

War Pigs  
By Maureen  
  
Disclaimer: song is by Black Sabbath (kinda freaky huh?). This is a song-fic series I suppose seeing as you can read all the fics separately but they make more sense read together. The first 2 are The Brews and I've got the Straight Edge. Anyone have a series name? Also, standard disclaimers apply except for Shimon Erem who is property unto himself.  
  
***  
  
Generals gathered in their masses  
Just like witches at black masses   
Evil minds that plot destruction   
Sorcerers of death's construction  
  
Jamie walked the halls of Kingsport High School with slight trepidation. He had no idea how anyone would react. But it was nearly two weeks since Catie had died, and it was Yom Hashoa. She would have wanted it.  
  
Slowly, the other students turned, whispering amongst themselves when they saw Jamie. He heard snippets of the gossip, "what is that star" "is he becoming even weirder". He ignored them, and simply continued on his silent path to his locker.  
  
He pulled the books out he needed and headed to his first class. History. He walked in and took a seat in the front of the room. The near model student. His teacher nearly had a heart attack because not only was Jamie in class, but also he was early and not slouched in the back of the room.   
  
In the fields the bodies burning   
As the war machine keeps turning   
Death and hatred to mankind   
Poisoning their brainwashed minds  
Oh lord, yeah  
  
The other students filed in slowly, not wanting to be in class. It was a perfectly good spring day, why must they waste it in the classroom?   
  
Clearing her throat to begin class, the teacher took one last glance at her notes and walked to the center of the chalkboard to begin the day's lessons. Then she saw it. What the other kids were staring at, whispering about.   
  
At the last faculty meeting it had been stated that no one was to mention this day. Principal Carlson would not be happy if he saw it. Then again, it was her firm opinion, shared by many of the students, that he was a bumbling moron.   
  
Politicians hide themselves away  
They only started the war  
Why should they go out to fight?  
They leave that role to the poor  
  
Firmly deciding to ignore it, she began her lecture. Jamie had read the current chapter on World War II and raised his hand politely to answer every question. He even answered correctly without any wiseass remarks. Miracles could indeed occur it seemed.   
  
Jamie made it to lunch without having to explain it or being seen by Carlson. Well, he never forbade the students from saying anything, only the teachers.   
  
At lunch he wasn't so lucky. "Mr. Waite," Carlson said, catching the frequent visitor to his office by the shoulder. "Care to explain your new fashion accessory?" Carlson gestured to the new patch on his jacket. Today he had worn his older black jacket, so as not to ruin his good leather one. The patch was a yellow Star of David in black on it. Instead of the word 'Jude' however, the number '6,000,000' was printed in the middle.  
  
"If you don't know, sir," Jamie replied coolly, "I don't see any reason to explain it."  
  
Time will tell on their power minds  
Making war just for fun  
Treating people just like pawns in chess  
Wait 'till their judgment day comes, yeah  
  
"I know what it means!" Carlson hissed, his eye bulging slightly under stress, "Why did you feel the need to insult people with it? It is offensive!"  
  
"No, it's history." Jamie said with finality. "My history."  
  
"Take that patch off now!" Carlson ordered, forgetting that they were in the middle of the cafeteria.   
  
"No!" Jamie retorted fierce fully, "Today is Yom Hashoa, the Holocaust Day of Remembrance and I'll be damned to take it off!"  
  
"It is an insult to Jews everywhere!" Carlson replied, now uncaring about the location of this fight.  
  
"I am a Jew!" Jamie shouted at him, losing his temper. "I got this at religious school last night at the yartzeit service!"  
  
Carlson gaped at him. His students, especially James Waite and Caitlin Roth, when she was alive, never ceased to amaze him sometimes.   
  
Now in darkness, world stops turning  
Ashes were the bodies burning  
No more war pigs of the power  
Hand of god has struck the hour  
  
"6 million Jews died in the Holocaust and those who do not remember are doomed to repeat it! We shall not forget!" by this point Jamie and Carlson had captured the attention of the entire cafeteria. If a mouse had sneezed the room would have reverberated with the noise.  
  
Finally Carlson came to his senses. "You are coming with me!" He grabbed Jamie's upper arm and propelled him towards his office, not letting his grip slacken for an instant.  
  
"Now, care to explain this one more time in a rational manner?" Carlson asked with almost exaggerated kindness.  
  
"No. Why should I? It's none of your business." Jamie slouched down in the chair uncaring what happened to him.   
  
"I think it is. Tell me."  
  
"Ever hear of the Jewish Resistance during World War II?" when Carlson nodded Jamie continued, "Ever hear of Sidney Waitz?"   
  
Again, Carlson nodded, remembering the world renowned Zionist. His death several years ago had been a shock to many. He had helped Shimon Erem establish the first Nazi-hunter group and had been active in America for years working for peace in the Middle East.  
  
"He was my grandfather. His entire family was taken to Bergen-Belsen the night of Kristalnacht while he was not home. He was lucky. He was a member of the resistance and was able to be smuggled out of Germany and into England. He then went to Poland and worked there as a freedom fighter and smuggler, helping to supply the Zionists with guns and other necessities. After the war he went to Israel to help establish a Jewish state. That's where he met my grandmother. They moved to America to do more work in the 1960's. My father was 5 when they moved here." Throughout the story Jamie had relaxed a bit, his tone almost conversational. "Now, do I not have a right to wear this?" his voice like cold, unyielding steel.  
  
Carlson looked at his student dumbfounded. Never had he thought that he had a history like this. Every time he learned something new it was like peeling back a thin layer of onion, knowing there was much more underneath, but he was never sure exactly how big the onion was.   
  
Day of judgment, god is calling  
On their knees, the war pigs crawling  
Begging mercy for their sins  
Satan, laughing, spreads his wings  
Oh lord, yeah  
  
"Go." Carlson uttered, feeling ashamed of his actions.   
  
A/N: I made up Sidney Waitz, but Shimon Erem is a real man that I have had the honor to hear speak and meet. He was used in this fic with only the utmost respect. He did establish the first Nazi hunter group after WWII and is very involved with pro Israel-Palestinian relations.  
Zionist: pro Israel (aka Jews)  
Bergen-Belsen: Nazi death camp, only slightly less notorious than Auschwitz.  
Kristalnacht: German meaning 'Night of Glass', the night many Nazi's went and destroyed anything owned by Jews and rounded them up to be taken to the concentration camps. 


End file.
